


Let Me Tell You a Story...

by DragonGirl218



Series: The Outsider in the Mortal World [2]
Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Branding, Gen, Restraint, The Void, mostly nonviolent though so shouldn't be an issue unless you're sensitive to stuff, the outsider's past, unwilling ritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5093585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl218/pseuds/DragonGirl218
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Little Empress wanted a bed time story, and boy did the Outsider deliver on that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Tell You a Story...

Once upon a time, in a land ruled by superstition and deity worship, there lived a young boy. His parents died when he was very young, so his early years were spent as a street rat who begged for food and coin. His name was unknown by the townsfolk and even he forgot his own name in time; if he had to be referred to, most called him the Outcast.

The world was not content to leave his suffering at that, however. He was always thin and scrawny from his time on the streets. There was a gang of older orphan children as well, but they found him too weak to benefit them in any way except to bully him and steal what few resources he had when their stores ran low.

The boy tried his best to fight against the gang, but he was young and inexperienced as well as weak so he never stood a chance. He rarely went a month without a black eye, fresh or recovering, and he always had some sort of bruise or cut on him at any given time. This garnered him pity from the lower class adults, but it made him even more repulsive to the wealthier citizens. The boy grew to loathe the townspeople who had abandoned him so.

In time, however, the town Priest began to take interest in him. The Priest brought food and clothes on a regular basis and often stuck around long enough to prevent the other street boys from stealing his meal. The boy began to trust the Priest and answered what questions he could about his life up to that point.

When the boy was fourteen years old, the Priest offered to take in the Outcast. This surprised the boy, but who was he to refuse food and shelter? Thus he began to live with the Priest, the Priest’s wife, and the servants of the Priest and the forces they worshipped. Being the orphan he was, the boy had not learned much of the local religion while on the streets except that they worshipped whales and a place he did not know of.

Over time the Priest taught the boy about the religion. They believed that a place called the Void was the spiritual counterpart to the mortal world; all life originally came from the Void, the souls of the dead waited in the Void to be reincarnated, and all magic derived from the Void. They also believed that the great whales of the seas were messengers between the mortal world and the Void, and that if one prayed to the whales, the whales would carry those prayers into the Void where they might be acted upon. The final tenet of their belief was that a god of the Void did not exist, but one day that god would exist, and that god would favor those who had believed in it even before its creation and help their souls in the Void.

A month after he began to learn about the religion, the boy had an odd dream. He stood within a vast blue space with rocks and debris floating like motes of dust in the air. He walked, and a path formed for him out of the floating rocks. No matter where he tried to go, there was always a path for him. When he awoke in the morning he told the Priest, who seemed interested by the dream but assured the Outcast that it wasn’t anything to worry about.

Two months after that incident, the boy had another dream. He was in the same place, but this time there were great whales present as well, floating above and below the rocks he stood on. The whales sang and he was moved by the sound of their voices all at once. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, though it also felt bittersweet. He awoke with tears in his eyes and he ran off to tell the Priest, who was thoroughly surprised but gave a warm smile and told the Outcast not to worry.

Four months later, he dreamed again of the strange realm. He walked along the path as he listened to the whalesong that had haunted his quiet moments in the waking realm for all those months. So entranced was he in the song that he did not notice the stone in front of him had moved away without another stone to fill the gap. He stumbled and fell into the abyss and he let out a fearful shout. He saw a stone move into position below him but he knew he was falling too fast, and so he braced himself and feared the worst. Yet the worst did not come – he felt that he was no longer falling yet had not impacted anything, so he looked down and saw that he was floating a foot above the surface. The whales drew near, and he began to understand their songs as if they were human words:

“We are dying.”

“Protect us.”

“The world is cruel.”

“You are more than you know.”

“Orphan. Outcast. Void-walker.”

The boy awoke in a cold sweat with his heart pounding out of his chest. Once more he spoke to the Priest, whose eyes were alit with fire. He told the boy that this was a good omen and that he should remain good and pious. It did not reassure him, but he trusted the Priest and did not bring it up further.

In the coming months, when he walked through the town – now healthier than when he was on his own, though still somewhat small for his age – he noticed a change in how people treated him. The wealthy and the influential wanted him to warm up to them, while the poor and the weak trembled and hid from him. Occasionally he would hear a muttered prayer directed to the Outcast. It unnerved him greatly, but as soon as he showed that he had heard, the individual would hurriedly become quiet and scurry away.

The boy questioned the Priest on why it happened, but all he received were pretty words that did not address the issue. It felt as though the Priest was hiding something from him. He began to secretly distrust the Priest.

The dreams began to recur, but the boy no longer told the Priest.

On the day of the boy’s fifteenth birthday, the Priest woke him up early.

“Today is the day of your Coming of Age ceremony!”

It was tradition for children to have a Coming of Age ceremony, and in those days the age at the time of the ceremony varied. Depending upon the conditions of the child’s birth and the events of their lives it could range from twelve to eighteen years of age. It was up to the Priest to discern the proper time, and it seemed that the boy’s age was fifteen.

The boy got up and did as instructed by the Priest. He had heard what the ceremonies usually entailed, but he noticed quickly that this one seemed odd. Servants bathed him with scented soaps and anointed him with sacred whale oil, then dressed him in special clothes. They took ancient rings and prayed as they adorned his fingers with them. All this he tolerated, for he hoped that he was only paranoid.

He was then covered with a special shroud and led out of the Priest’s house. He was guided toward the edge of town and he noticed all the townspeople began to follow him and the servants.

“Wait, where are we going? Why is everyone here?”

The servants ignored him.

“Hey, answer me!”

The townspeople jumped back in fear at his outburst. The servants grabbed his wrists tightly and dragged him further on, past the edge of town. They were headed toward the cliff that overlooked the sea and the boy could see the Priest waiting with candles and incense and whale bones and a large bonfire. That was not a standard Coming of Age ceremony set up; it was more akin to the set up for sacrificing a beast to the Void. The boy panicked.

“No, I won’t! I refuse! Unhand me!”

The townsfolk once more jumped back from the outburst, but this time they were more worried. He was thrashing in an attempt to break free but more servants merely stepped forth to keep him under control. The townspeople muttered worriedly, frightened at what might happen, though the boy didn’t understand their concern. He was the one about to be sacrificed, after all.

Eventually he was brought before the Priest, who was busy heating something in the fire.

“Ah, Great Outcast, at last you come. It is time for you to realize your destiny.”

“What? I. I don’t understand!”

“You will, soon enough. Now, bare his chest.”

The servants did as commanded and carefully unbuttoned the boy’s coat and shirt to reveal his bare, unblemished chest. He tried to squirm free but more servants stepped forth to keep him still. The Priest took the item from the fire, revealing it to be a red-hot brand with the Mark of their religion upon it. The boy knew what would come next, and he knew there was nothing he could do about it. He cried out in pain as the brand made contact with his left pectoral region, over the spot where it was believed the human heart lay. The servants waited for the flesh to stop burning, then they redid his clothes as they were meant to be.

The boy faded in and out of consciousness after that. Snippets of prayer and worship were heard. Whale bones were held up and anointed with oil before being tossed in the fire. He could feel the air get thicker, and the previously clear skies quickly became overcast.

Finally the ceremony seemed to be over just as the boy was fully regaining consciousness. He breathed a sigh of relief – until the servants picked him up by his arms and legs and carried him to the very edge of the cliff. His heart was racing. Surely they could not plan to do what he feared was happening.

“You can’t let this happen! Why are you all just standing there? You have to stop this!”

He cried out to the townspeople and turned his head to see them. They were nervous and scared, yet all of them seemed determined.

“Why would they want to stop this? This is what we all have been waiting generations for.”

The Priest stepped forth and laid his hand on the boy’s chest, which caused him to convulse in pain from the brand beneath the man’s fingers.

“You are destined to become the god of the Void, dear Outcast. The stars, the omens, your dreams; they all point to you becoming our god.”

Suddenly it all made sense to the boy. They way people had treated him, the Priest’s reactions to his dreams, even the setting of his dreams. Before his brain could finish putting all the pieces together comfortably however, the Priest gave a signal and the servants tossed him over the edge of the cliff.

The boy screamed in terror. It was a very tall cliff and he knew that water was not soft at all from such a height. He tumbled as he fell and he noticed a large shape moving around in the inky water below him, as well as the gaze of the entire town watching him hurtle toward the ocean from above.

As he neared the halfway point, the shape in the water leapt up. It was a massive, frightening whale seemingly made of swirling shadows. Many times larger than a standard whale, it met the boy halfway and opened its gigantic maw to swallow him whole before crashing down into the water. The townsfolk waited anxiously to see what would happen next.

Inside the whale, the boy was too frightened to breathe properly. His eyes darted around but all he could see was darkness. One thing he managed to notice even in his frightened state was that he was no longer falling, yet he did not rest upon anything solid. Whatever the whale was made of it was making him float in place, like in his dreams.

He was not given long to marvel at the fact. Far too soon he was crying out yet again. This time the darkness of the whale began to enter his body through the brand on his chest. It felt like ice poured into his body through a flaming hole through his heart, then spread throughout his body. He shivered violently as every last bit of heat seemingly left his body. Eventually the only heat left was from the burning sensation caused by the darkness passing through the branded Mark, yet even that dulled shortly to where it no longer greatly inconvenienced the boy.

With the pain and discomfort out of the way, the boy felt something else within him. He felt more substantial, somehow. There was power growing within him, and the faint tingle of magic began to flow through his veins. More and more the darkness flowed in and more things changed. He could hear whalesong – all the whalesong in all the seas! – and he not only understood the whales, but his mind had expanded to be able to comprehend all of them speaking at once. He also became able to see through the darkness; he looked up and saw the townspeople crowded around the edge of the cliff in a strange monochrome where living things appeared bright yellow against the black of his surroundings. Even then, more darkness flowed in. He wondered how much there was, and how much his small body could handle.

It was then that he felt it. The primordial essence of the Void was within him. He was suddenly enlightened on everything the Priest had not dared tell him. The Void wanted a host body. It wanted something to give it a form, a vessel to build a consciousness within. The Outcast’s mind would not be as it was after the ritual completed; but nor would his mind be lost. His mind would meld with the entirety of the Void itself. He need not worry about the new powers he was given, for the Void knew how they worked. He need not fear his own weakness, for he would have all the might of the Void within him.

He closed his eyes and shed a single tear at the revelation. Never again would he be alone, for he would have the Void and the whales forever. Never again would he be bullied or manipulated, for he would have the all-powerful might and knowledge of the Void. With that shift toward acceptance rather than apprehension, the rest of the ritual completed in moments as the Void whale collapsed on itself as the Void completed its merger with the boy.

He opened his eyes to find himself underwater, though he did not panic. He did not need to breathe if it was not beneficial to him now and the Void overrode any human instincts that would be inconvenient to him. The Void made him aware that he had limited time left in the mortal world – he and the Void were now one and the Void could not exist there for very long. There was one last thing he wanted to do while he had time.

The townspeople waited anxiously for a sign. They needed to know if the ritual had been successful or not. For all they knew the Outcast was drowning and sinking to the bottom of the ocean. By the time people had considered leaving and giving up on the venture, a small figure burst out from the water below. It was the boy, and he was surrounded by tendrils of inky blackness as he flew up toward the top of the cliff. Part way there he disappeared from sight and then reappeared at the top. He floated just off the edge of the cliff, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked at the crowd disapprovingly with eyes that were now pure black without visible iris or sclera.

“I am the Outsider now, vehicle for the Void. Your ritual was a success, but at what cost? After all that, do you think I will simply obey your wishes and grant your prayers? You are all fools. But fools can learn, so perhaps, if you work hard enough, I might be swayed to lend an ear to you. Though I do find that quite unlikely given your actions the past fifteen years.”

With that his time was up and he vanished in a cloud of darkness. A moment later he appeared in the Void and instantly he felt more at home than he ever had in the mortal world.

“Is that all really true?” Emily asked.

“That’s for you to decide, Little Empress,” the Outsider replied. “After all, the best stories always have some fantasy to them.”

The young Empress had refused to go to bed without a bedtime story that night and Corvo couldn’t think of any tales he had yet to tell her that would be appropriate for her age. Thus he had asked the Outsider if he had any stories to tell, and he had said yes. So there the Outsider was, lounging mid-air in Emily’s room as he had told her his story. It seemed like a good tale to tell a child, compared to some of the things he could come up with.

“So, you used to be human?”

“Indeed I was. You could argue that I’m still human to some extent, technically,” he replied with a shrug. He had a human form at least and he could easily fool people if it weren’t for his eyes and his tendency to float everywhere.

“And you’re…you were…not much older than me when it happened?” Emily inquired with two parts curiosity and one part sadness.

The Outsider was confused by her reaction until he remembered how Corvo had influenced her. Back when he contemplated whether or not to give Corvo his Mark, he had foreseen Emily’s three possible fates: death, ruthlessness, or kindness. Corvo had taken the most interesting route, so Emily had become quite the gentle, loving soul. It made sense then that she would feel sorrowful over four thousand year old events that he had long ago accepted as the way things were.

“Yes, I was only a few years older than you are now when it happened. That I confirm as fact. But do not think too much on it, Little Empress. Think of the lengths the aristocrats and the wealthy go through to stay youthful, then look at me: I didn’t even ask for it and now I look young and – as some would argue – handsome forever!” he answered with a light chuckle as he shifted to “stand up” while still floating a foot or so off the ground.

That got Emily to smile and laugh. The Outsider had a point, and if he was fine with it then she didn’t have any need to worry about it. “Okay then. I think I’ll go to sleep now. Thank you, Mr. Outsider.”

“Goodnight, Little Empress, and thank you for listening to an old god ramble on.”


End file.
